Everything had been okay. To be honest I had completely forgotten about it! Completely forgotten. Just like it had never happened.
I had managed to completely and utterly block it from my mind. That night. It was like it had never existed. Like it had never, ever happened. Everything would have carried on just as planned. We had gone back to shamelessly flirting, with no one thinking any different. We had always been like this. Since second year.
And, now. Now I would never be able to forget about that night.
Like I had done. Ish.
Well, its not like that would be easy to forget. Give me credit. I did try. But how do you forget something like that?! Something so…so…so….so absolutely and utterly, completely and devastatingly, fucking, bloody fan-fucking-hunky-so-fucking-amazing.
Do not get me wrong. I am no nun, so I can compare! And I’m not over exaggerating. At all. It was bloody marvellous, and I was pretty sure at the time that that was what completely being in love with someone felt like… until it ended and I realised that all I was fond of were his moves.
And his body.
And his hair.
And his eyes.
And his- okay, the point is that it was completely magical in every sense of the word. There were sparks (YES, SPARKS) and like a fire and I felt like I was floating… well, until he knocked my head against the head board particularly hard. Believe me, I was not impressed.
In fact, I think I still have the tiny bump on my head to prove it.
But the point is that at the time I had never felt better than I did at that moment. Never, for the life of me, could I have thought of a time when I felt even a fraction of what I did then. And I had never wanted it to end. Even the following weeks when he sat down next to me in Astronomy, I had to bite my tongue from begging him for another round of what I love to call; The James Steam Train.
There are a number of reasons why I refer to the experience as ‘The James Steam Train’. The first being the fact that there was no way he was stopping, I think I would have had to have given him an hours notice before he could finally, well and truly stop. Plus, I pretty sure that at one point, we were going a hundred miles an hour. Okay, so maybe we weren’t going that fast, but it felt like it. Another reason, is that every girl in the history of the universe (apart from his mum, sister and nana molly, and his cousins) wanted to jump aboard and would happily stay on for as long as they could. It didn’t matter how much the fucking tickets were, girls would fork out the cash. And finally, even though you might have gotten the teensiest bit like, ‘how much longer is this gunna last? (because the boy has the stamina of a wildebeest!), but do not worry because when you finally reach your destination, it was all fucking worth it. Without a doubt in my mind, everything leading up to that moment was worth it.
Even the fumbly bits at the start where he tries to cross boundaries, and you have to bat his hand away from that area. Ew.
But now, looking back, I’m starting to question if it had been worth it. Who am I kidding? Of corse it wasn’t worth it!
1. I had to piss on a bloody stick?! Which, by the by, is harder than it freaking looks! Its you’re a girl and you have aim, well, you are a freakin’ BOY. I don’t think you understand my mortification when I pissed on my own hand. My hand. And might I add, this did not bode well with me on account of my OCD. I have scrubbed my hand eleven times now and I’m pretty sure I can still feel the diseases intoxicating my body.
2. Morning Sickness?! Again, are you FREAKIN’ KIDDING ME? I don’t think I need to explain why I am not happy about being sick at all times of the day! Oh, yeah, that’s right kiddies, morning sickness is a myth by the by. It should be named ‘all the bloody time, no matter where you are, who you're with-sickness’. And it is not enjoyable. Not one bit.
3. I’m starting to show. This is not good. Especially for a girl who is hounded by dickheads with cameras every where she goes?! Do you understand how hard it is to cover that up with a baggy jumper without being on the front of the bloody Daily Prophet with the title ‘Mona Moans for secret lover?- Pregnant or just getting fat?’. Its freakin lucky my sister works as an editor there or the entire country would have been wondering about my suddenly enlarged boobs, my plump stomach or the fact that all of a sudden I have an ass that resembles that of fucking Karina Karshan (wife of famous quidditch player, Dave Finch. DUH)
4. I cannot eat anything! I mean, I seriously am finding it hard to find anything I can eat without hurling in front of the entirety of Hogwarts. I cant eat any meat, or eggs, or any fish or anything too sweet, but hey, lets look on the Brightside… I can eat freakin porridge. Yey. For. Me.
And there you have it, that’s why I am now sat in the toilets, just off the Fifth Year Slytherin girls dorms, holding a pregnancy stick that confirms I am in fact the oven for James Potters bun.
And I’m standing and looking at the shower curtain, wondering the best way to hang myself with it.
Before this stupid test I had just thought I was ill. Just ill. Not pregnant.
But now this stick only confirms that I am with child. The saviours of the wizarding worlds grandkid. And to make it even worse, I’m going to have to tell him before Witch Weekly does.
.Now I would never be able to forget about that night.
My Names is Mona Marie McLaggen, and my life just got a whole lot more complicated.
So, what did you think? This is gunna be based around Rose, Scorpy, James, Mona, Dominique and Albus, but mainly Mona and James' relationship!
Thankyou for reading, and please R&R because it would make my day plus it would help me imporve and see what everyone thinks! Thankyou!
Write a Review The Memoirs of Mona McLaggen: Of Steam Trains, Shower Curtains and Weeing On My Own Hand